


Don't Deny It

by orphan_account



Category: Doraemon (Manga)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Surprise Pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 03:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3512927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suneo tries to deny his feelings toward someone who certainly doesn't deserve them. Nobita knows otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Deny It

"Are you _sure_ you don't like him?"

Had Nobita not asked it thirty times before, the insistent question would have earned a far more startled and irate reaction. By this time, however, it had about as much impact and force as a wad of cotton falling on silk.

Suneo folded his arms in a tight cross and held them against his chest. He turned his head as though Nobita were nothing more than a smudge on the ground.

"Of course I don't," Suneo said. He sniffed in disdain. "Why would I like a bully? I mean, he can play baseball good. Really good. And he knows a lot about comics. The quality ones, not the cheap things you're into. But _liking_ him? I wouldn't say anything like that."

Suneo's tirade had begun with vigor, but by the end, his voice lowered. He scuffed the side of his shoe over the dirt until tiny puffs of red dust curled around his feet. He kept his gaze locked on the toes of his shoes as if they were the most fascinating things on the planet.

Nobita shoveled his fingers under his glasses to jar them straight on the bridge of his nose. He squinted at Suneo through the smeared lenses. "What was that thing you said earlier? You like people that can hold their own ground or something?"

"I like people who are _strong,_ " Suneo said. "Who doesn't? Nobody likes weak pale sissies." He tilted back his head and raised an eyebrow as he said this. Nobita had the distinct impression that Suneo were referring to him.

"Well, isn't he all those things you like?" Nobita's voice twisted in a mocking parody of prissiness. "Tough, strong, good at sports, good taste . . . and you say you _don't_ like him? Are you sure?"

"How thick is your skull, Nobita?" Suneo tapped his thumb against the side of his head in emphasis. "I've told you at least a dozen times. I don't have any feelings or interest for him!"

"Are you su––"

"None!" Suneo beat his arms through the air, his patience unraveling like a spool of yarn. "Not an iota of interest! Not a speck! Or a molecule, or a mite! Not a single scintilla of interest at all! Now will you stop pestering me about it, or do I have to say it again and spell it all out for you this time?"

Suneo realized that, during his rant, Nobita's attention had shifted somewhere behind him. A sly grin tugged up one side of Nobita's mouth. Suneo's throat closed up, and his mouth went dry as sandpaper.

In one swift arc Nobita swept up his hand and jabbed his glasses into place again. His grin widened to rival that of a Cheshire cat.

"You don't have to spell it out for me," he said. "But you might want to say it again for _him._ Just so we're clear."

Suneo's heart grew icy cold like a rock lodged in his ribs. He swallowed. His fingers curled limply, suddenly numb. A chill crawled up the back of his shirt and buzzed into his hair. Nobita's grin hung in place, his eyes fixed with a morbid sort of glee over Suneo's shoulder.

Suneo buckled down, clenched his fists, squeezed his eyes shut, and twisted around on his heel to face the eavesdropper. His shoe squeaked against the dirt. A moment passed––no blows landed, no fists hammered his head, no knees rocketed into his gut. Suneo cracked open his eyes, and found himself staring at the embroidered emblem on the pocket of a varsity jacket. Before he could stop himself, he glanced up.

Nobisuke lazily grinned down at him like a snake. With his hands plugged in his pockets as he leaned back, he looked as though he had walked in on nothing more harmful than a tea party.

"Talking about me again, are we?"


End file.
